Thought

Thought.
It's as deep as an ocean.
Blissful as the cool autumn breeze.
Frightening as the monsters of our nightmares. Mysterious as the shadows of a cave.
Without thought, we would be nothing.
But with it, we are dangerous.
Some are fortunate enough to fall into it.
Become lost in its depths.
Some are unfortunate.
Some are both.
Either way, each one of the cursed, the gifted, is granted the gift I have.
The gift I love.
The gift I hate.
The gift that makes me me.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741